Across the Universe(s)
by Melika Elena
Summary: Just because Gale Hawthorne and Madge Undersee couldn't be together in the canon universe doesn't mean they aren't together elsewhere... an unconnected series of short (and longer...) drabbles.
1. Lifeguard Training

**On my Tumblr I posted a fun prompt, and the following are requests in response: **

**In response to: ****askboxmemes****:**

**1) Give me a pairing.**

**2) Give me an AU setting.**

**3) I will write you a three-sentence fic.**

_Gadge. Lifeguards. Go. _

Gale Hawthorne did _not _(and I repeat: **did not**) want to practice giving mouth-to-mouth resuscitation with Madge Undersee, of all people, but he would be damned before he let pretty boy, lifeguard instructor extraordinaire and Playboy of Panem Pool, Finnick Odair be the one to do it.

"It feels so nice to be wanted," Madge snarked quietly to him, and he scowled at her, hating that she always seemed to know the right buttons to push to get him going.

… As it turned out, she knew how to get him going in more ways than one, and, to Finnick's dismay, a simple mouth-to-mouth resuscitation demonstration quickly devolved into something so steamy, he weakly suggested everyone leave them alone and take a dip in the pool to cool off.


	2. College Dorms

**On my Tumblr I posted a fun prompt, and the following are requests in response: **

**In response to: ****askboxmemes****:**

**1) Give me a pairing.**

**2) Give me an AU setting.**

**3) I will write you a three-sentence fic.**

_Gadge: college dorms_

There were a lot of rules to living in the dorms, Madge quickly learned— how loud your music could be after 10 PM, what kind of tape could go on your walls, the wattage of the microwave in your room, etc— but she wondered how in the hell it was legal for Gale Hawthorne to wander the hallways in nothing but a towel.

"Morning, Undersee," he smirked, knowing how his half-naked presence startled her, and loved how he finally could unnerve the quiet girl who always put him on edge when they were growing up.

He was in for a surprise the next morning, though— Undersee was clearly playing hard ball, sauntering towards him with her shower caddy and wearing nothing but a periwinkle blue, satin robe that stopped mid-thigh, and smiling at him mockingly, "Morning, Hawthorne," leaving him gaping after her with his mouth open.

***If you have a three-sentence drabble you want me to respond to, go to my tumblr (melika-elena) and ask!**


	3. District 2

**On my Tumblr I posted a fun prompt, and the following are requests in response: **

**In response to: ****askboxmemes****:**

**1) Give me a pairing.**

**2) Give me an AU setting.**

**3) I will write you a three-sentence fic.**

_Gadge: Finding her in District 2_

He's at the Train Station meeting an Important Person when he sees Madge Undersee's face behind the dusty glass of a train carriage, and when their eyes meet, he knows in his bones that it's her because he feels that familiar zing whenever he's around her, a skip of his heart, an organ that Gale deemed as rusty and broken as old mining equipment in Twelve.

The train is leaving to God knows where, and he's running towards it, yelling her name, completely forgetting about any other Important People, (she is the only Person of Importance, now) and he sees her through the window, rummaging through her bag and looking frantic.

Through the smudged glass he can see her holding up a piece of paper, ripped from a notebook, and in black marker she wrote: "Come home, Gale" and he knows exactly where he'll find her again.


	4. The Mayor Kicks Madge Out

**On my Tumblr I posted a fun prompt, and the following are requests in response: **

**In response to: ****askboxmemes****:**

**1) Give me a pairing.**

**2) Give me an AU setting.**

**3) I will write you a three-sentence fic.**

_Gadge: Her father kicked her out_

Gale can't remember the last time he heard Katniss sound so frantic, but when she called him at 2 AM while on vacation with her family on the other side of the country, begging him to go to her house with the spare key and let Madge Undersee in, he forgets to be annoyed and instead is just plain worried.

Standing on Katniss's front porch trying to keep dry from the heavy rainfall, an overnight bag in hand, is a shivering Madge Undersee, who looks so miserable that even Gale feels sympathetic for her.

Somehow that sympathy extended into him volunteering into making sure she was settled, and then into fixing them some hot chocolate to warm up, and then somehow falling asleep with her on the couch, her head resting on his shoulder.


	5. Asher's Advice

**On my Tumblr I posted a fun prompt, and the following are requests in response: **

**In response to: ****askboxmemes****:**

**1) Give me a pairing.**

**2) Give me an AU setting.**

**3) I will write you a three-sentence fic.**

_Gadge: his dad is still alive_

"As tempting as it is to not wear your heart on your sleeve, let your old man give

you some advice: to win a girl over, she has to be at least somewhat aware that you even _like _her," Asher Hawthorne said to his eldest son, startling the normally unflappable young man, who was busy staring at the pretty blonde from afar.

Gale flushed and scowling at being caught, shrugged his father's hand from his shoulder and started to walk home, calling over his shoulder, "Come on, Dad, there's nothing going on there, and there never will be."

His father chuckled, "I don't believe that for a minute, judging by the way you look at her…" Gale paused, knowing his father just had to get in the last word, "and by the way she looks back."


	6. Anger Management

**On my Tumblr I posted a fun prompt, and the following are requests in response: **

**In response to: ****askboxmemes****:**

**1) Give me a pairing.**

**2) Give me an AU setting.**

**3) I will write you a three-sentence fic.**

_Ooh gadge where gale is forced to take anger management classes (lol) and madge is the counselor: _

"So, Mr…. Hawthorne," his counselor said at the beginning of his first Anger Management session, in a cool, professional tone that infuriated him, "you're here at the request of your friends and family, yes?"

He hated her on sight, this girl-woman who couldn't have been any older than him, with perfectly coiffed blonde hair, calm, innocent demeanor, and wide blue eyes— what the fuck did she know about anger, anyway?

Gale didn't realize he had asked the question aloud until he looked into those blue eyes and saw a kindling there, a slow fire that burned brightly and seared his soul and she said, with an edge that unnerved him: "I know a lot more about anger than you'd think, Mr. Hawthorne, and unlike you…" she grinned at him, slow and predatory, hinting, mocking, "I actually know how to control it."

_is there anything I could do to persuade you to continue the anger management prompt because it turned out so much better than I ever expected and I need to see it: _

Gale's two months into counseling (he refuses to call it 'therapy') when his counselor, Dr. Undersee, (he also refuses to call her 'Madge', even though she told him coolly on the first day he was more than welcome to do so,) comments on his progress.

"You seem to be in a good mood," she says, although he hasn't smiled or seemed outwardly more responsive to her usual questions, "is there a particular reason why?"

Gale's startled in more ways than one, mainly because he _is _in a good mood, and he's shocked that she can tell. He knows he's not the easiest person in the world to read, but he supposes that when you spend two hours with someone twice a week, you get to know him pretty well.

"Um… I, uh, talked to my best friend today," he says quietly, suddenly seeming shy, looking down at his hands, laced together loosely in his lap.

"Oh?" Dr. Undersee says, jotting something down on her notebook, and while in the beginning this used to annoy Gale, she does it so discretely now that he barely even notices it.

"Yeah. I… we haven't talked in a while," Gale admits, trying to swallow past the lump in his throat that's growing.

"May I ask why not?" She lays down her pen, giving him her full attention.

"Because… she's the reason I'm here," he says.

"Which is?" She asks, not unkindly, and it's the first time they've ever really discussed why Gale is here.

He doesn't answer.

"Gale?" She finally asks, a little worriedly, because there is something very, very wrong with the man in front of her.

"I'm here because…" he looks up and his eyes are bright with tears, "because I killed her sister."

Dr. Margaret Undersee, Madge to her friends, is known in the area as one of the best and brightest, up-and-coming psychologists, known for her calm and composed demeanor and kind eyes. Her professors in school said that she was gifted with a presence that made people want to confide in her, and she took that compliment very, very seriously.

Though very young, she considers herself to be very qualified and eager to make a difference, but even she has never met anyone quite like Gale Hawthorne.

He's surly, brooding, and though he's a man in his mid-twenties, has all of the characteristics of a child ten years his junior. And yet there's something about him that makes Madge take pause, to not simply write him off just yet. There's a tension to him that is not just angst, a detachment that seems odd from the passionate, angry man.

She's read his file and there's nothing like murder in it, and Madge has the feeling that she's really going to have to dig to get to the bottom of this story.

"I have a feeling it wasn't intentional," Madge says slowly.

"No," Gale says, shaking his head, clearing his throat. "It wasn't."

They sit there in silence for a moment, because as much as Madge wants to ask what happened, she has a feeling that asking Gale would just make him wary, like a caged animal.

"It was a car crash," he says, finally. His eyes stare ahead, blankly. "It was dark, rainy. I was on my way to the airport to pick Katniss— she went to school out of state— and Prim, her sister, was with me. Their parents couldn't pick Katniss up, so we did. I knew I needed new tires, but I couldn't afford them, and I didn't want to ask my mom for the money. Things at my house were always tight, especially with me in school… I turned a corner and a truck was headed towards me at the same time, going too fast— when it passed me, it caused a huge well of water to spray up. My tires were bald, so when I lost traction, I spun out of control and ended up hitting a tree… Prim was gone, instantly."

He rests his elbows on his knees and puts his head down, and breathes deeply for several minutes, and when he finally lifts his head again, his eyes are red, but dry. "Katniss— Katniss couldn't forgive me," he says. "She said it was my fault, that I had put Prim in that death trap," he swallows. "I know Catnip. I knew that blaming me was her way of coping, because Prim was everything to her— but I also knew what she was saying was true. I knew the car needed new tires, and I arrogantly thought I could control the car. But I might as well have strapped a ticking time bomb on Prim," he laughs, and it's bitter. "And I don't deserve to be forgiven."

"By who?" Madge asks. "By Katniss? Or by yourself?"

Gale answers, immediately, "Both."

"And yet," Madge counters, "you say you talked to Katniss today. And you were in a good mood. Has she forgiven you?"

Gale blinks, haven completely forgotten about that. "I— she said," he swallows, "she said she's trying to." He looks at Madge, a little curiously. "I guess she's having sessions in this building, too— from a… Dr. Mellark?"

Madge smiles a little bit. She and Peeta are good friends, and although they refrain from talking about their patients, she could tell that he's been in a bit of a mood the past few weeks over a patient— frustrated, yet, as always, deeply concerned. She wonders if it's because of Katniss. "Yes, Dr. Mellark works here," is all she says.

Gale nods. "Anyway, she said he's helping her understand that logically she knows it's not my fault, but emotionally, she doesn't."

That sounded like Peeta.

"I didn't realize… but now we know that our families teamed up, did an intervention on both of us. I guess we both haven't been doing well these past few years."

Madge nods. "Well, if Katniss is working on trying to forgive you," she looks at him, "don't you think it's time we work on you trying to forgive yourself?"

He opens his mouth, but she cuts him off, frowning, "And don't you dare say you don't deserve to be forgiven," she says, trying not to get too angry herself. "Because you deserve to be happy again, Gale," she says, looking him straight in the eye. "Life is too short to regret things you can't change. You can only go forward."

Gale's two years into therapy when Madge comments on his progress.

"You seem to be in a good mood," she says, although he hasn't smiled or seemed outwardly more responsive to her usual questions, "is there a particular reason why?"

He grins at her, making a face. "Catnip and I are fighting," he says, almost proudly.

Madge raises an eyebrow. "Really?" She asks. "And how is that a good thing, exactly?"

Gale shrugs. "We've been tiptoeing around each other these past couple of years, trying to rebuild our friendship… and you know, considering we've been trying to both control our anger, we haven't gotten into any spats, not like we used to, when we were kids. And now we have, and it… I dunno. It feels _normal_," he looks at Madge and seems almost a little embarrassed. "Is that weird?"

"No," Madge says with a pleased smile, happy for him. "It's not, at all. Anything else new?"

"Wouldn't you know?" He queries back, with a smirk. "Or has your dear friend Peeta not told you?"

Madge leans back in her chair, crosses her arms and narrows her eyes at him. "What do you mean?"

Gale copies her position and smirks. "Oh, don't try and use your poker face on me. I'm sure he's told you every detail about his and Katniss's _thing." _

" 'Thing?'" Madge asks, amused. "Really, Gale? How old are you again?"

Gale laughs, and it's always refreshing to see. Madge always marvels how much he's changed over the past two years. Even though Katniss's forgiveness helped him, what really freed Gale was the realization that he forgave himself, and that he finally knew, in his heart, that if Prim were alive she would want that, too.

He will always be a passionate person, Madge muses, looking at him as he enthusiastically tells her about Katniss and her newly ex-psychologist Peeta's first date, with equal measures disgust and delight. He's happy for his friend, and at another time in his life might have been jealous, but now wouldn't deny seeing her happy for anything. But, she thinks, that's not such a bad thing. He may have a bit of a temper, but at least now he knows some techniques and ways to control it, thanks to her.

"So how do you know so much about anger management?" Gale had asked her, almost teasingly, a year before. "Remember? On the first day, you told me you knew how to control anger."

Madge shrugged, feeling a little uneasy. "This isn't about me," she protested, "but let's just say I grew up with some very angry people… and for a long time, that made me angry myself."

Gale's eyes darkened in understanding, and his eyes flickered to her arm, where there was a long burn scar. A present, courtesy of her mother, a bitter, angry woman, who just couldn't forgive her daughter for looking and acting so much like the dead twin sister she had loved.

Madge wasn't like Peeta, who could still grow up to be so sweet and loving, despite having a mother just like Madge's. She grew up hard and angry, and finally, on the day her mother gave her that burn, Madge lost it, whacking her mother viciously on the head with a textbook.

Both Madge and her mother recovered from the incident, but by that time the authorities had stepped in, sent the mother to jail and sent Madge to live with her father, who had divorced her mother years earlier and who Madge rarely saw, so busy was he with his political career.

She had been angry at him, too, for abandoning her, but to his credit he cried when he saw her in the hospital, and swore over and over he would change, and he did, getting Madge the emotional and physical help she needed to recover.

It was while she was in therapy sessions that she became interested in psychology, at the idea that she could help change people. She was interested in child psychology, but also specialized in helping people deal with depression and grief, although she suspected that Gale's family never told him that when they recommended her to him.

They didn't discuss Madge's personal life after that… how could they, when they were still patient and therapist?

It was disappointing, to be sure, that they couldn't be anything other than that. Madge had admitted to herself long before that he was attractive, that she was attracted _to _him, and not just because of his broad shoulders, strong body, or handsome face. He was, underneath the surly demeanor, a kind, selfless man, who helped raise his siblings and was fiercely loyal to those he loved.

Of all the men she could choose to fall in love with… she found herself brooding late at night about it, but in the daylight and in his sessions she was nothing but professional.

Except now, as she's spacing out while he's speaking.

"…I've thought about it for a while now, and I think it's best if this is my last session," Madge blinks at him rapidly as she comes out of her thoughts and realized what he's saying.

"But—" Madge gaps. He had never given any indication before that he wanted to stop seeing her. Granted, for the past year he's only come once a week, as opposed to twice, but still… Madge swallows. "Well," she says slowly, "If you think it's best. I must admit, you _have _improved tremendously."

"It's true," Gale nods solemnly, but his eyes hold a mischievous twinkle in them Madge has never seen before. "I have to move forward with my life, don't you think?"

A look of melancholy flashes across Madge's face, but she pushes it away quickly. Madge nods rapidly in reply.

"Yes, of course, you're right," she shakes herself and smiles widely at him. "Look at you, throwing my words back at me. I think you _are _ready after all."

"I want to move forward in my relationships, too," Gale says, smiling softly. "There's this woman I've been wanting to ask out for a while, but neither of us were in the right position for me to do something about it."

Madge's heart sinks, but she smiles at him, just a tad weakly. "And now both of you are?"

Gale's grin grows even wider. "Well, after today, she'll no longer be my therapist, so I don't think she'll tell me to shove it," his eyes soften at the gobsmacked look on her face. "Professionally, at least."

Madge smiles at him, and it's like sunlight bursting through the clouds. "I have the feeling that she won't tell you that personally, either."

Gale looks at the clock. Their very last session is over. He knows that he's her last appointment for the night, so he stands up, and holds his hand out to her. "Would you like to have dinner with me, then, Madge?" He asks.

She puts her hand in his, smiles up at him. "Nothing would make me happier," she tells him seriously.


	7. Victorian Era

**On my Tumblr I posted a fun prompt, and the following are requests in response: **

**In response to: ****askboxmemes****:**

**1) Give me a pairing.**

**2) Give me an AU setting.**

**3) I will write you a three-sentence fic.**

_1) Gadge 2) Victorian era_

Gale glared at her defiantly as he told her, bluntly, that his family made their modest fortune in trade, the lowest profession, and one typically looked down upon by the rich, titled gentry of her class, but his strong gaze (and even stronger jawline) intrigued Margaret Undersee too much to snub him (not that she ever snubbed anyone, ever, to begin with).

She was no Anne Elliot; on the contrary, she had a stubborn resolve reminiscent to Emma Woodhouse, and she decided right then and there that she would prove to him that she did not intend to have him be the Pip to her Estella (though the extent of his personal ambitions rivaled the fictional orphan's), but instead make him the Darcy to her Elizabeth.

Regardless of the fact that they were from two very different classes, with two sets of parents with two sets of very different expectations, and it was not practical, logical, or any other adjective usually associated with her, Margaret Undersee was determined to make this work: after all, it is a truth universally acknowledged that love makes a fool of everyone.


	8. Bridal Party

**On my Tumblr I posted a fun prompt, and the following are requests in response: **

**In response to: ****askboxmemes****:**

**1) Give me a pairing.**

**2) Give me an AU setting.**

**3) I will write you a three-sentence fic.**

_Madge and Gale, bridal party. _

They aren't the Maid of Honor and the Best Man, nor does she catch the floor and he the garter belt, but the cliche does occur, eventually, when her partnered groomsman drinks a little too much champagne and gets handsy during a song and _he _steps in; it's not as though Madge Undersee can't take care of herself, because she totally can, but making a scene at her best friends' wedding is something she would like to avoid at all costs.

Gale Hawthorne could give two shits about causing a scene, and Catnip and The Baker should have known better than to have an open bar, I mean, for Christ's sake did they **want **Haymitch to get alcohol poisoning, but that's neither here nor there, because if The Baker's asshole of a brother doesn't stop sliding his hand down to the curve of Madge Undersee's (delectable) ass, he is going to—-

_Oh, no, he didn't_, Gale thinks darkly, but that doesn't stop him from going out there in the middle of the dance floor and pulling Bread Name #2 away from the blonde who has continuously caught his eye since they were teenagers in a bumfuck town in the middle of nowhere, and for once he's got her full attention, and sure, the quirk of her eyebrow and a twist of her lips isn't what he's going for, but it's a start, and, lucky bastard, even _he_ doesn't know this is something that Peeta and Catnip are going to talk about, three years later in their speeches at Gale and Madge's own wedding.


	9. Here Comes the Bride

**On my Tumblr I posted a fun prompt, and the following are requests in response: **

**In response to: ****askboxmemes****:**

**1) Give me a pairing.**

**2) Give me an AU setting.**

**3) I will write you a three-sentence fic.**

_Gale and Madge, Gale stops Madge from marrying the wrong guy, please? :) _

"What's so great about this guy, anyway, Undersee," he demands to know as the bartender brings them more beer; Undersee's a weird type who didn't just want a Girl's Night the night before her wedding but wanted to go out with all of her friends, male or female, which suits Gale just fine because he doesn't want to go do "Boys' Night" with her fiance, who is a pretentious dickwad by the way (hence his question, and no, he's not _drunk_, just a little bit tipsy, thankyouverymuch, but he's 100% serious with his question.)

His tone is only half-playful but Undersee, a Downer Drunk, answers him solemnly, "Because he wants me, of course," and she's looking at him with accusing blue eyes, goading him, reminding him when he was a complete fuck up when they were twenty and he told her he wanted Katniss instead of her (which, obviously, was a Big Fucking Mistake, and okay, maybe it was because he was scared that they wouldn't work out, so he pushed her away— his feelings were legitimate, his actions were idiotic, give the guy a break, he only reminds himself of his foolishness almost every day of his life).

Luckily for everyone involved, Gale is just a bit tipsy— tipsy enough to not get angry, but not drunk enough to do something _really _stupid— so he opens his mouth and says, "Fuck, is _that _it? I can do better than wanting you, Undersee— I can love you" and she wants to brush him off and tell him to fuck off, her heart isn't his to break anymore, but he looks so earnest and yeah, she's quite a bit gone, too, so she does what she does best, and turns the tables, saying, "Well, show me, then"— and he does.


	10. Confrontation

**On my Tumblr I posted a fun prompt, and the following are requests in response: **

**In response to: ****askboxmemes****:**

**1) Give me a pairing.**

**2) Give me an AU setting.**

**3) I will write you a three-sentence fic.**

_Gadge are a couple, then Gale is avoiding Madge, so Madge confronted him. please?_

"You're avoiding me," Madge says the moment he opens his door, standing there, her eyes blue and watery but her gaze direct, and Gale just stands there, not saying anything, because it's true, he _has _been avoiding her, and when she whispers, "Why?" like she's heartbroken he feels like an ass and he wonders if he can explain himself properly— he's like Katniss that way in that articulating feelings are never his strong suit.

"I'm fucking terrified," he blurts out, to his horror, but it should be no surprise because it's Madge Undersee and she always makes him lose control in the most maddening of ways, but it's true, he's terrified that he'll lose her one day, because he's not _good at this_, at letting people in— it's been so long since he's been this happy and felt this secure that he's just afraid he's going to fuck it up: "I don't want to lose you."

Madge smiles at this, her eyes alight with understanding and Gale sees immediately that she's like Peeta in that she has understanding surly and emotionally stunted people like himself down to a science, which makes him all the more awestruck that he's found someone who complements him so well, and she says, her eyes kind, but her words flippant, "You'll only lose me if you pull this kind of stunt again, so get over here and make it up to me," and with a sense of relief and love so powerful it staggers him, he does.


	11. A Different Game

**On my Tumblr I posted a fun prompt, and the following are requests in response: **

**In response to: ****askboxmemes****:**

**1) Give me a pairing.**

**2) Give me an AU setting.**

**3) I will write you a three-sentence fic.**

_Gadge couple AU? Madge (still from Town) is in the games & she pulls of[f] a "Katniss-&-Peeta". Gale (still from the Seam) watches, jealous. _

"Because he came here with me," she tells Caesar, bashfully, her eyes darting off to the side of the stage where Bristel stands, shocked, his eyes large as The Girl He Never Looked Twice At declared her love for him, and Gale, standing at home watching it in his dim living room, feels a flash of envy so swift and unexpected it feels like a cut to the core.

He sees them kiss in a damp cave, bruised and burnt and battered, and he can't stop feeling this way, the jealousy and subsequent guilt he feels because one of his best friends is in the Games and all he can feel is envy that he gets to kiss the girl Gale has always wanted but never thought he could have.

She's Bristel's now, he thinks bleakly as they emerge from the train, haunted and hollow, but alive, so alive, and he's tired of feeling this way but he can't help the nagging thought that he's lost out on something important.


	12. In the Court Room

_Can I request Gale and Madge as opposing lawyers with lots of sexual tension and maybe a first date at the end? _

There came a certain point in Madge Undersee's life when she finally admitted that she would never be rid of Gale Hawthorne. They competed for everything, no big shocker, whether it was undergrad studies in Law, Society, and Justice, or law school, who would be editor of the Law Review, which was more respectable, a defense or prosecuting lawyer, which way was best to handle a case, everything. They finally split ways after law school, going to different firms, but somehow, over the years, they kept running into each other again and again. Gale could have sworn the behemoth of a city he had entered as a freshman undergrad had shrunken down to a pond. By then, Madge was simply resigned to the fact that he was in her life, wedged into a corner and wouldn't budge.

They weren't friends, to be sure; there were no happy hours after a long day; no phone calls late at night after researching all day; no days holed up in one another's apartments watching movies on Saturday's. But they had some tacit understanding and respect, somehow, a kinship built by years of fierce competition. They always seemed to know, through mutual friends or otherwise, what the other was up to. If he saw her in a bar he would look out for her (without her knowing, or so he thought) and she always inspected the girls he would go out with (and raise an eyebrow at him with an expression to convey her judgement). It was an interesting thing, to seek and accept the other's approval but outwardly deny it.

Both, then, were unsurprised when their small, respective firms merged and the two were, once again, together.

It was the first case they had been assigned to work on together, and, coincidentally, both of their first times, leading a case. Usually a more seasoned lawyer was paired with a rookie for a bit, but the firm was unusually busy and both Madge and Gale were acknowledged as two of the most fierce, eloquent, and relentless lawyers in town, if not the youngest.

With great intelligence came great pride. Each approached the case in a slightly different way and were each convinced they were right.

"We need to focus on piecing together an alibi," Gale was arguing to her one morning.

Madge rubbed her temples; she slept terribly the night before. Her neighbors next door were arguing again. She really needed to find a new apartment.

"While I agree that having an alibi would be the best way to ensure our client's innocence," she reasoned, "we've already tried that. Our client is too drunk to remember what happened and the timeline itself is so messed up, we don't even know where he could've gone before he found his girlfriend's body. We need to focus our efforts on creating doubt elsewhere. Focus on the girlfriend and her drug abuse history. See if we can find any former dealer or acquaintance who might've wanted her dead."

"That's not enough," Gale said, a muscle in his neck twitching. They had been going at it for hours and their team of interns, paralegals, and junior lawyers were silent, eyes darting back and forth as though they were at a tennis match, waiting for further instruction.

One of them, a small young woman named Rue, cleared her throat. "Um…. Mr. Hawthorne? Ms. Undersee?"

"What?!" They both snapped, having completely forgotten they had an audience.

"If you don't have any further instructions, can we go research some more?" They had called a meeting to discuss their line of attack… but it quickly spiraled out of control. Three hours ago.

Both quickly looked at each other, then away, suddenly ashamed.

"Of course, Rue," Gale cleared his throat.

"We'll see everyone tomorrow," Madge chimed in.

They watched everyone file out, and then it was just the two of them. The air was still crackling with energy, left over from their long argument, though Madge mused it was always this way between them, arguing or not. There was some sort of excitement, a rush in her blood that got her heart pounding and made her feel alive when he looked at her. Secretly, she enjoyed the rush she got from arguing with him, and it was the only selfish reason she indulged in such immature behavior, no matter how impractical. It was quite annoying, however, considering the fact that he was the only man who ever inspired such feelings within her.

Even when he was being insufferable, Madge couldn't walk away.

"Good going, Undersee," Gale said finally, blowing a steady stream of air out, slowly. "What a waste of time that was."

"It wouldn't have been a waste if you weren't so damn stubborn," Madge snapped suddenly. What was with him lately? He was always competitive, but he had never been so obtuse before. "I'm not saying we give up on your idea completely, just that it's not practical to devote all I our time to!"

"Pot, meet kettle," he growled back, and he said it so seriously that for a moment she just stared at him.

He stared back and then frowned, almost a little confused, as if he was wondering who had said that ridiculous statement.

And then, suddenly, Madge started to laugh. Gale scowled at her for a moment, thinking she was mocking him, but her laugh was an odd mixture of slightly-hysterical, brought on by stress, presumably, and just pure delight, when one laughs simply because something unexpected has happened when one needs it the most. Once Gale, in the span of a moment, realized this, he started to laugh as well.

Many minutes later, the two finally quieted down, peals of laughter turning into chuckles and fading all together. Madge was dabbing her running mascara with a handkerchief and Gale simply used his finger pads, wiping away the moisture on his pants.

"Come on, Hawthorne," Madge said, standing up and straightening her skirt. "Let's go to The Seam," she said, referring to a local, well-known bar in the area. "I think you and I need a drink."

"You buying?" Gale asked, an eyebrow raised, but he grabbed his coat anyway.

Madge smirked at him. "We can negotiate for it."

000

Miraculously, weeks later, they won the trial. Their client was found not guilty, due to good arguments, well-researched reasoning, and a healthy amount of doubt and lack of evidence. Gale and Madge felt like they were on top of the world, and were, for once, glad that they were working together instead of against one another (although the latter _was _fun). In the end, they compromised: Gale let Madge research other options, but Madge let Gale have not one, but two paralegals on the case researching the client's alibi. It was a mixture of both elements that won the case.

The exhausted assistants in question were headed out for a night of drunken revelry at The Seam, with perhaps some pit stops at local pubs The Hob, Greasy Sae's, and finally, everyone's final spot, Victor's Village (the pub open until 3 AM, the longest out of all of them, where one is considered a Victor if they can make it there after a long night of drinking.) Madge was planning on at least going with them to a couple bars, and was turning to Gale and asking if he was going to the same, when she noticed he was looking at her funny.

It wasn't the first time this had happened. He had been acting peculiar for a while now. Sometimes, the few times they were actually away from the office and trying to lead social lives, he would text her, out of the blue, telling her a joke or sending her a picture of something that reminded him of her. Sometimes, he brought her lotus leaf green tea, a rare type and brand that is her particular favorite, casually saying that he bought her one because he had happened to stop at a store that sold it. Sometimes, she'd catch him looking at her, strangely, as if she were a puzzle he wanted to figure out, or worse, as if he _had _figured her out and could see every little bit of her.

She was used to Gale Hawthorne getting her hot and bothered (in more ways than one), but she wasn't used to his presence being so unnerving.

"Gale?" She asked him, after they stared at each other far too long to be comfortable. "Were you planning on coming to The Seam tonight?"

Gale shook his head, and wouldn't make eye contact, looking over her right shoulder, at the tip of her ear. "I have a bit of a better idea," he said, drawing in a deep breath and looking into her eyes. "How about you and I grab some dinner instead?"

"Just the two of us?" Madge squeaked, and hating herself for doing so.

Gale doesn't smile. "Yeah," he said, nodding solemnly. "Just the two of us."

"Like a date?" There goes the squeaking again.

Gale shook his head, and Madge tried not to be disappointed. "Not _like_ a date," he said. "As in an actual date."

"Oh," Madge said. There were a million reasons why she should say no, the chief among them being that office relationships were very much looked down upon. And the idea that, if they go down this road and fail, she would lost Gale and he would be out of her life forever—it seemed unbearable. Unfathomable.

But she looked into his eyes. He looked vulnerable—he knew what was at stake, too. And he didn't care. He was willing to risk a lot of things, because that's just who Gale Hawthorne was—big risk could mean a big reward, he always said, and since Madge knew what kind of risk he was taking, it flattered her to know that he saw her as a big reward, should they succeed.

Looking into his eyes, she saw friendship. But most importantly, she saw warmth, laughter, and love. She saw happy hours after a long day; phone calls late at night after researching all day; days holed up in one another's apartments watching movies on Saturday's. She saw it all and she wanted it all, and saw no reason why she couldn't have it—why _they _couldn't have it.

"Yes," she told him, grinning widely, tucking her elbow in his, "that sounds like the perfect idea, after all."


	13. Spy vs Spy

_Prompt: AU—Madge and Gale are fugitives from the law; crazy stunts, car drives, awkward hotel room moments, you know, all the clichés _

They've been partners so long that it seems nothing about Madge Undersee surprises Gale Hawthorne anymore. Her ticks, her habits, her strengths, her flaws, are neatly alphabetized and stored in the recesses of his brain, organized like a well-kept library, ready for recall and easy access.

He knows that of the two of them, she is definitely a better actress (he can't hide his scowl to save his life, and Madge smartly tells him he'd be a god-awful poker player) but he is much more stealthy, so he lets her handle the distractions and she lets him handle cover break-ins.

When it comes to getaways and on the fly situations, they're evenly matched. Madge's slim physique and years of classical dancing training make her as flexible as they come, and she can literally shimmy her way out of many potentially sticky situations, but since Gale's size is a bit of a detriment in this way, he's had to develop his own methods, which involve a lot of dirty fighting and yeah, marksmanship.

He doesn't like killing people, and neither does she, but when you work for one of the biggest mob bosses in the country who's literally keeping your family held captive, well, both of them go into survival mode and it's kill or be killed.

But he knows other things about his partner, too. It's hard not to notice after working together for four years that she tends to paint her toenails conservatively but her nails are always some bright color, or with some funky design, like glitter or polka dots.

She despises the color black, but says her favorite color is grey, and when he questions her why, she just blushes (okay, okay, so he doesn't know _everything_, but one day, he'll pump enough vodka in her system where that secret will spill out.) She has to dress in black a lot for some of their more covert missions, but when they're in more casual wear it's all bright colors. He called her stupid for attracting attention to them, but really, the U.S. government is interested in Somalian pirates and Syrian terrorists; two petty thieves who steal sporadically are barely on their radar. It helps that when they steal, she binds her breasts and they both put on wigs and different colored contacts so as far as the FBI knows, they're two men with strawberry blonde hair and green eyes.

Regardless, Gale Hawthorne knows Madge Undersee better than anyone and, as much as he hates it, vice versa. She knows his favorite foods, his moods, his father's name, his ticks and tells. He knows that their mob boss Snow assigned them to be partners, but Gale has the feeling that even if things were somehow magically different, without their debt and guilt and fugitive statuses, she would still be right by his side, even through his scowls and his moods.

He's seen all of her, too, her grumpiness in the morning, her vulnerability, how she always wants hugs when she's on her period, how she calls her mother every month, just for one hour, and cries when she's done.

She stopped surprising him year ago… so why, upon seeing her in a simple floor length royal blue dress with thin straps and a scooping neckline, is it so hard for him to breathe?

"Pretty dress," he says, and then almost smacks himself. It's not so much the dress as the girl _inside _the dress.

She's all slim lines and soft curves, but the best part is the muscle in her arms and legs, that hint of steel beneath her pretty veneer. Her strength, both physical and mental, is what he admires most about her, really.

Her eyes, normally so clear and crystal, are darkened due to the smoky make-up, but her lips are light and her hands are fidgeting, with the simple studs in her ears, with the loose blonde waves spilling down her back.

"I have to look my best," she says, but she's distracted.

She's dressed up to meet with someone Snow wants them to rob— some hot-shot named Seneca Crane (what the fuck kind of name is that, Gale will never know)— a date that was borne of a carefully orchestrated run-in the day before. Crane is taking her to the nicest restaurant in Austin, Texas, and she went shopping that afternoon on Snow's credit card to get what she needed to so she could lure him to bed after their date, drug him, and take him for everything he has. She's doing it solo, which makes her nervous, but security around his penthouse is tight, even too risky for Gale to break-in, and besides, they have a system if something goes wrong.

"Do I look ridiculous?" She blurts, biting her lip.

Seeing her like that makes Gale's mouth dry up quicker than a river in the middle of summer. "You look…. amazing," he says hoarsely, and Madge smiles widely (she knows his tells, she knows when he's lying— or telling the truth.)

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Gale nods. "This Crane guy— I know he's getting robbed tonight, but…" his eyes meet hers. "For a few hours, he's going to be the luckiest son of a bitch alive."

Madge lets a sharp inhale of breath, and for a moment the seedy hotel room fades away and all that's there is them. Madge has fantasized a lot about them together, but this is the first indication that perhaps he has, too.

"I have to go," she says, after several long moments. "I might be late otherwise."

Gale clears his throat. "Be careful," he says. "I hear this Crane can be a crafty bastard, especially when it comes to home security."

"I'll be fine," she smiles.

"I don't want to look for another partner," he tells her.

She laughs a little, high and slightly flustered. "Really? For the first year and a half you kept telling me how useless I was and how you couldn't believe Snow assigned my sorry ass to you."

Gale has the decency to look a little ashamed. "I know better now," he tells her seriously, looking at her straight in the eyes so she understands. "I know what I have, now."

Her breath catches in her throat, and falls silent. She doesn't know what to say, so instead she turns around and heads to the door.

She hears him as her hand is on the knob. "Come back to me?" He says lowly, and she can hear him struggle to stay even-toned.

Madge's hand tightens as she wills herself not to shake, but her voice is strong and clear as she says: "Always."


	14. Morphling

**Thanks to everyone who has given me prompt requests! Alas, this will be my last one for a while: I still have one for Jenny and a Snow White one to finish up, in ADDITION to all the stuff on ff. net AND planning my (first!) NaNoWriMo story. Thanks again, everyone! I will let you know when I'll be accepting drabbles again. **

Gale doesn't mean to overhear them. He's at his mother's new house, checking to make sure all her plumbing and electric is working correctly, and, finally satisfied, he heads downstairs. He hears female voices— Katniss is here, too. Prim and Rory are getting married next month and Katniss is absolutely _agonizing_ over her maid of honor speech. She and Hazelle are helping to plan the wedding, and Gale, on the landing, plans to call out, but he stops, silent and still like the hunter he is, when he hears his and Madge's names.

"I had a hunch they might end up together," Hazelle says. "I wasn't so caught up in grief that I didn't notice who it was that saved his life."

Gale frowns. Whose life? His?

"It bothered me at first," Katniss admits in a moment of rare emotion. "I was still— pretty unsure of my own feelings for Peeta. And in a lot of ways, I considered Gale to be mine."

"Madge might be from Town," proclaims Hazelle, "but there are parts of her that are pure Seam. Braving a snow storm to bring medicine to a man who barely tolerated you? That's some sort of bravery— or stupidity, but I know that girl, and she's anything but stupid."

Katniss gives a chuckle. "Definitely not stupid," she asserts before Gale can bristle too much at the thought of anyone calling his wife stupid. "Besides, they're married now, so clearly she did something right."

"Doesn't Gale not know, though?" Hazelle wonders.

Katniss nods. "Yeah, though I'm not sure why. I don't know if Madge never thought to tell him, or if it was intentional. I just know he still thinks my mom had it and it's not my place to tell him anything different."

"I would hate to be there when he does find out, though," Hazelle says. "He hates to be kept in the dark."

"Agreed," says Katniss. "I'd hate to be Madge, then."

000

Madge knows that there's something wrong with her husband. That morning, he was perfectly fine when he went to his mother's and yet when he came back… He's sullen. Brooding. Gale has always been serious, but rarely has Madge seen him like this since they were war torn teenagers. It's, to say the least, very disconcerting.

He grunts and mutters in answer to her questions, and eventually she leaves him alone. He finally speaks as they're cleaning up after dinner; he's washing and she's wiping.

"I overheard an interesting conversation today," he announces into the silence.

"Oh?" Madge queries, her tone rich with wry humor, exasperation, and annoyance.

"Yes," Gale says, a trifle too cheerfully for Madge to feel at ease. She tenses, slightly, waiting for an attack.

Gale doesn't disappoint. "They were talking about when I was whipped."

Madge's hands still on the drying cloth.

"You know, I wasn't conscious much during that time, so I never knew what happened—" Madge flinches. Gale carries on. "But when I found a morphling bottle a few weeks later, I assumed that Katniss or Mrs. Everdeen got it for me. I thanked them for it, and never thought anything more about it, and no one ever corrected me." Madge knows this is hard for him to say. By not correcting him, Gale feels that Katniss, Mrs. Everdeen, and even his mother betrayed him in some way.

But not compared to her.

"And yet yesterday," he says softly, "I learned what _really_ happened. That you— who I, at the time didn't think _highly _of— risked your life to save mine is baffling. And the fact that you— who are now my _wife_— never told me about this is equally as baffling and— and heartbreaking," he whispers.

Madge covers her mouth with her hand and breathes in deeply.

Gale stares at her stonily for a moment, but at seeing her tears, he breaks down and wraps his arms around her, guilt trip forgotten. "Aww, sweetheart," he says, "please don't cry. I didn't mean for you to get this upset."

Madge punches him on the shoulder. "Of course you did! God, why else would you turn all of your tactics on me?"

Gale chuckles a little. "That's true," he says. "But still. You know why _I'm _upset, right?"

Madge bites her lip, nods. She wraps her arms around his neck and looks up at him. "Truth?" She asks.

He nods and tightens his arms around her.

"It wasn't as though I meant to keep it from you," Madge says. "When it first happened, I didn't really want you to know, but I didn't tell anyone that there was a condition of secrecy. Things were hectic then, as you know, and bringing you my mother's morphling was highly illegal, so everyone probably didn't say anything to you just out of pure fear and habit. I mean, you had just gotten whipped for doing something illegal, for goodness sakes. And things were still weird between you and Katniss." Madge swallows, clears her throat.

"What about when we saw each other again?" Gale challenges. "At 13?"

"Right," Madge says. "Well, I mean, other than being half-starved and close to death when I first was picked up, you can't say that we saw each other a lot."

"We saw each other enough," Gale says softly, thinking of unexpected meetings in darkened hallways, of debating ideals, of talking strategy, of speaking about fears and dreams.

"We did," agrees Madge. "But honestly? You know I was so in love with you during that time, beyond that hopeless infatuation that I had when we were in 12, and what was I supposed to say? I didn't think of it as withholding information, but… I did think about what if I told you. And things were so tentative between us. I thought saying it would ruin our friendship, that you would just think about what you owed me and not understand that I did it because I simply couldn't _not_…" she trails off. "And when we started dating," she whispers. She's silent for a moment.

"When we were dating?" Gale prompts her, raising a hand to brush away a tear she didn't realize she was shedding.

"I didn't want you to feel like you owed me, or that because I did this you _had _to be in a relationship with someone who you know wanted it more than you did," Madge turns her face away, ashamed. "I didn't want you to love me for what I did for you— I wanted you to love me for who I was."

"Baby," he turns her face back to him, his charcoal eyes meeting her robin's egg blue's. "You _know_ I do." He waits until she nods. "So why did you never tell me? Even after you knew I loved you and we were married?"

Madge shrugs, laughs a little embarrassedly. "It's not as melodramatic as everything else. I just… didn't think about it. Sometimes it's difficult for me to connect who I was in 12 with who I am now. And it's difficult for me to do the same with you. Who you were then is so different to me than who you are now. But I'm sorry," she tells him, "I'm sorry that I never told you. I know if the positions were reversed I would be mad, too."

"I don't want there to be secrets between us," Gale says. "And I don't know how I would've reacted then, but regardless, I just want to say— thank you."

Madge gives him a look. "I don't need your thanks, Gale."

"No, hear me out," he tells her. "You saved me then, in 12, with the medicine; you saved me in 13, when I was so angry and you were so kind; and you save me every single day, with your goodness and bravery and hearing what you did for me makes me love you more." He looks at his shocked wife. Flowery speeches are not Gale Hawthorne's forte, but sometimes the stars align and his passionate nature can express itself verbally.

Madge doesn't say anything else, and neither does he. They just hold each other at the kitchen sink, letting the moonlight filter in through the window, happy, alive, and together.


End file.
